Two sides of the same coin
by nannodayo
Summary: The lion-turtle neglected to tell Aang to exercise restraint when taking someone's bending away. Now, he's trapped in a strange world with Ozai, but there are threads of hope poking through the living stone. Post-Sowzin's Comet/AU Half-blood Prince. Avatar spoilers.
1. Chapter 1

Ozai fell to the ground as his restraints crumbled. Weakly, he tried to firebend at the only person to ever best him – Avatar Aang.

"What – what did you do to me?" he asked in a low, gravelly voice. However, Aang wasn't paying him any attention, looking around him with a confused expression on his face. While it _was_ nice to have defeated the Fire Lord – he refused to even _think _of Ozai as the 'Phoenix King' – he was now faced with another serious problem. Well, maybe not as serious as the end of the world, but still…

"Where are we?" he asked out loud, still gazing at the huge hall that he was, inexplicably, standing in. It was magnificent, really, though he questioned the open ceiling – not very practical. More fascinating to Aang, however, were the people filling the hall – about a hundred of them, all pointing sticks at him. The sticks seemed to be a weapon – how, he had no idea, but then a lot of people don't understand his staff. They were wearing strange clothing – black robes, with crests of assorted colours on the breast. They also had a strange facial structure and colouring – they weren't all the same, of course, but it was as if there was a new race standing before him, previously undiscovered.

All of this ran through his head in about two seconds. It became apparent that none of the strange people in the hall were going to answer him. Still extraordinarily confused about the turn of events, he turned to Ozai, who was slumped on the stone floor. Stone that felt very strange… he'd think about that later.

"I took away your firebending. You can't use it to hurt or threaten anyone else ever again," said Aang, in response to Ozai's earlier question. Everyone in the strange hall heard this as they were dead silent. They all looked at each other with mixed expressions of shock and confusion – none of them had ever heard that term before. "Now," he added distractedly, ignoring the various muttering that had started around him, "I suppose we _could _be in the spirit world, but there are never this many humans there, or any buildings. I guess…" he trailed off. Best to eliminate as many things as possible, he thought, as he span around and shot out a spiral of wind that blew the spectator's hair from the slack-jawed faces.

"Well, not the spirit world then," Aang said conclusively. He was about to start postulating the number of ideas he had, but someone from the crowd had retrieved their ability to speak.

A tall man dressed in all black - with greasy black hair to match – strode forward, pointing one of those sticks at them and looking too furious for words.

"Who are you and how did you get past the wards?" He asked in a soft, dangerous voice. Aang just looked at him bemusedly while Ozai had taken to gaping at the lack of ceiling. Another person came forward, a woman with her hair in a tight bun, black robes and a shocked but grim expression on her face. She pulled the man aside and said shakily, "Severus, the students! Why don't you take them up to Professor Dumbledore's office – you can hold them there until he gets back, and question them then."

The man – whose name was now 'Severus' – looked irritated at the suggestion. He hissed back to her, "And what, _Minerva, _is to stop them from escaping? Did you not see that light coming from their bodies? They obviously know magic that we've never seen, there's no telling what they could do!"

The woman – Minerva, Aang remembered– seemed to be trying her hardest to keep her emotions under control. After a moment of stern glaring at Severus, she replied with the same amount of anger, but significantly more dignity. "What would you prefer to do, Severus? Interrogate them right here, in the middle of Apparition classes, with all the students watching on? It would be better to detain them elsewhere, for the time being."

Severus huffed agitatedly, his breath causing his greasy black bangs to flutter. He seemed annoyed at being mistaken, and snapped rather unkindly at Minerva, "Fine, we'll take them up", before spinning on his heel and saying to Aang and Ozai – who was slumped somewhat pathetically on the floor – "You'll come with us up to the Headmaster's office, where you shall _stay _until the Headmaster returns."

Ozai, who had been trying desolately to firebend for a minute or two, looked disgusted at how he was being treated. He made to rise off the floor, and raised a finger in a would-be menacing manner, while saying hoarsely, "I am the Phoenix King!"

While Ozai slumped back down, Aang hurriedly waved his hands in front of him and said nervously, "Don't worry about him, really, he's a mess."

Severus just scowled at Aang before snapping at Ozai, "Get up, we're taking you to the headmasters office." The fallen Firelord glared spitefully up at him before slowly rising to his full height. As he swayed on his feet, some tittering broke out in the female population of the room. They all giggled in appreciation of his muscular arms and torso, which were completely bare, apart from a gold band on each upper arm, since he burnt his clothes at the start of the battle. Another teacher came out from the crowd to aid Minerva in escorting Ozai out. Severus, meanwhile, grabbed Aang's upper arm in a vice-like grip, gave him a particularly nasty look, and began to march him out of the room.

Sokka and Suki stood on a pillar of stone, in the outskirts of the Earth Kingdom. Their jaws were slack as they stared disbelievingly at the place where Aang was a few seconds ago.

"H-How…" Sokka tried to speak, but was rendered inarticulate. He had seen many crazy things in his short life, but this one took the cake. The fact that two people had just _vanished completely _was even harder for him to comprehend than flying snot monsters. Suki was hardly any better off, since she hadn't experienced a lot of what her boyfriend had.

"Wh…Wha…what just happened?" She managed to voice softly.

Out of the three of them, Toph was the only one unaffected, as they'd been on the airship when it happened, and her feet couldn't see outside of it.

In response to Suki, she said, "Beats me. But, I _do _know that Twinkletoes isn't close by. Where'd he get to now?"

Sokka and Suki could only shake their heads numbly.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Wow so I checked my emails and I didn't realise so many people would like this crap. Just so you know, I point-blank refuse to do the classic oh-no-voldemort-found-out-about-us-now-we're-in-trouble thing that I see on almost every single hp crossover. Also not doing the oh-look-a-wild-stranger-appeared-lets-just-shove-them-conveniently-in-classes-with-the-golden-trio thing either, it's boring and unimaginative. Anyway, I'll try to update fairly quickly, but I do have school and stuff, so yeah. _

As soon as Aang was pulled on the first floor, he didn't mind that he was a prisoner. Gasping, he gazed in awe at the moving pictures on the walls. Moving, _talking_ pictures! He'd never seen such a thing, and he was a hundred-and-thirteen-year-old world travelling Avatar. One of the portraits, a stuffy-looking old lady in a fancy dress, said loudly, "Such tattoos on one so young! What _is _today's generation thinking!"

Aang, to his credit, didn't look put out by this at all, since quite a number of people he had met reacted the same way to his tattoos. He said to the painting, cautiously but patiently, "They're airbender tattoos. I got them when I mastered airbending, like all the Air Nomads. But…you've probably never seen an airbender before." At this last comment he scratched the back of his head nervously with the arm that wasn't in Severus's death-grip, and tried his best not to shoot a hostile look at Ozai.

The woman in the painting just looked bamboozled now. "An Air-whatsit? What in Merlin's name is that?" She asked sharply, but before Aang could answer her, he was yanked forward by Severus, who was looking nastily at him.

"Keep walking and don't talk to the paintings!" He snapped, pulling Aang down the corridor. Aang did so bemusedly, and was unable to refrain from asking, "How come the paintings talk and move? How do you get them to do that? I've been all over the world and I've _never _seen something like that!"

Severus frowned suspiciously at the boy, not answering his question but continuing to march him down the hallway behind Minerva, Ozai and the other woman walking with them.

Ozai himself seemed to have gathered his pride since losing his bending. Glaring murderously at any portraits that insulted him or scorned him for his lack of clothing, he walked with his head held high. He didn't say anything the whole way up to the Headmaster's office, unlike Aang who was fascinated and confused by almost everything they past and couldn't hold his tongue. Any question that ran through his head also ran out of his mouth. Eventually, Severus got sick of it and barked at him, "I thought I told you not to talk!"

Aang only looked mildly taken aback as he replied, "You said that I couldn't talk to the paintings, which I'm not."

The man's face was momentarily blank before twisting into a snarl as he spat out, "Don't get smart with me, boy, just shut up and keep walking!"

Aang started to say that he didn't mean to be rude, but the look on his captor's face stopped him. His mouth managed to stay shut until they reached the gargoyle that was the entrance to the office. Gasping as it jumped – literally _jumped _– out of the way, he made to put his hand on the stone, saying "How could it…" in a quiet voice. He was jerked up the stairs unceremoniously by Severus, however, before he could make any discoveries of the strange, unmanned forms of earthbending he'd seen here. Moving staircases was one thing, but rocks that jumped out of the way when given the right words? This place was crazy, and Aang couldn't wait to learn as much as he could about it. He told himself that this Headmaster person was probably more reasonable than Severus was, and that they might answer some of his questions. His questions! Aang must have had a hundred of them by this point. As the stairs that he was standing on started moving, Aang was jolted back to his senses, and had to desperately refrain from asking who was earthbending them, since all three people who were taking them up were standing stock still. Sure, they were wearing floor-length robes – which Aang had already marked down on his 'Unusual Things That Should Be Questioned But Aren't Important' list – but not even Toph could bend a whole _staircase _without moving.

Severus dragged him into the office – a beautiful, round room full of books and whirring, puffing gadgets. Aang grinned inwardly – Sokka would be at home here. With a pang, he also realised that Katara would be gushing about how _beautiful _it all was. While he had to agree – the room was really quite fantastic – the thought only made him depressed.

Minerva was pulling out one of those sticks that everyone seemed to have here, and twirled it in the air. To Aang's, and even Ozai's surprise, two chairs fabricated themselves mid-air and fell to the carpeted floor with a muffled thud. While Aang started spluttering incoherently, Ozai looked floored, and just gaped at the chair in utter disbelief. Completely ignoring their astonishment, Severus pulled out his stick and, pushing them into the chairs, conjured ropes that twisted around their limbs and held them in place.

Aang could only stare down at the ropes dazedly, completely unperturbed by the fact that he was being treated in this way – it had happened often enough that he just went along with it, so long as the Fire Nation weren't the ones making him a prisoner. Ozai, on the other hand, took great offence to being treated so lowly.

"What are you doing?" He demanded firmly. "Do you have any idea who I –"

"No, I don't, but I assure you that I intend to find out," Severus replied smoothly, before turning away from an indignant Ozai and saying to the two women, "I'm going to the Owlery to send a message to Dumbledore. Make sure they don't escape."

As the women nodded in agreement, Aang and Ozai both looked at each other with equal amounts of confusion. How could they possibly escape?


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: Thanks to everyone who's reviewed/followed/favourite this story! You guys make me write faster, seriously. This one was a toughie, and I feel ridiculously guilty that it took me so long to write it. Tell me what you think, it keeps me going!_

Aang was sitting peacefully in his chair, trying simultaneously to take in his surroundings and organise his thoughts into some resemblance of coherency. It was proving to be pretty difficult, though, when he had two of those magic sticks – he felt, given what he'd just witnessed, that this was an acceptable name – pointed right at him. He didn't like to think what they might be capable of, if they were able to produce furniture out of thin air. Another distraction was coming from his immediate left, in Firelord-form. Ozai was struggling against the ropes that held him down, trying to find a way out. This seemed to anger the women guarding them, and the last thing Aang wanted was angry people behind the magic sticks pointed at him.

Leaning over slightly, he muttered to Ozai, "Just quit it already. You won't be able to get out anyway, there's no point."

Shooting Aang one of the murderous glares that he now felt to be harmless, Ozai snapped quietly, "My first instinct was to _burn _them, but you've kindly _removed _that option. I don't suppose you could…"

Knowing full well what Ozai meant, and meeting his gaze with hostility, he said calmly, "No, I _don't _suppose I could. There's no point in trying to escape, I'm sure that they just want to make sure that we aren't trying to kill anyone. _Which we aren't," _he added firmly, his expression hardening as he glared at Ozai.

Ozai, looking only mildly offended, said dryly, "Oh, back to that, now, are we? Well, fine, I don't need help from _you _anyway." Looking like a petulant child, he resumed his furious wiggling in a bid to escape the ropes. Aang shook his head in frustration and sat back in his chair, processing his thoughts once more. They remained like this for about six minutes, when the door to the office opened and a tall, thin man stepped in.

The newcomer was very old, but not as old as King Bumi. He had long white hair and a matching beard; half-moon glasses perched on his crooked nose; twinkling blue eyes and possibly the _best _clothes Aang had ever seen. The man wore long robes, like everyone else did here, which were quite possibly every shade of blue _ever. _Aang couldn't help but marvel at the beauty of them.

The man in question stood in front of Aang and Ozai and said, gravely, "Is this them, Professor Snape?"

Severus Snape - Aang was assuming that the man had two names like Toph – said softly, "Yes, Professor Dumbledore."

Professor Dumbledore turned and pulled out one of his own magic sticks, waving it through the air and fabricating a comfy-looking armchair. Settling himself down in it, he said over his shoulder to Severus, "Yes, I think you should bring it, Severus. Oh, and fetch Harry too, will you?"

The bat-like man looked like he wanted to protest against the order with every fibre of his being, but underneath Dumbledore's easy-going speech, there was a hardness that suggested that the matter was not up for discussion. His eyes hardening, Snape turned and swept out of the room. Dumbledore faced Ozai and Aang, his face now deadly serious and asked, "What are your names?"

Aang said quickly, "I'm Aang. It's an honour to meet you." He tried to bow, but realised that he was still tied to the chair, and settled on inclining his head respectfully.

Ozai, who had ceased all escape attempts when Dumbledore had entered, straightened himself in the chair and said, "I am Phoenix King Ozai, previously Firelord Ozai," before looking at Dumbledore in a way that dared him to challenge him. Dumbledore ignored the look he'd received completely, gazing off to the side and tapping his lips with his fingers.

"Firelord, you say? I don't believe I've heard of such a position. You'll have to explain it to me," he said, looking back to Ozai. Although he spoke in a light, friendly tone, his eyes were dark and serious, holding a sort of authority and power that Aang hadn't really seen before. It reminded him slightly of Bumi, but it was different at the same time.

Mustering all of his condescension and arrogance - which really was quite a lot – Ozai glared at Dumbledore and said, contemptuously, "The Firelord rules over the Fire Nation, the greatest of the four. Every imbecile knows that."

Before Aang could tell him off, or Dumbledore could reply serenely, the door to the office opened again. Severus swept in, looking tense yet excited, with a younger person following him. Aang could only assume that this was the 'Harry' person that Dumbledore ad requested. To Aang, he didn't really look very important – he was about Sokka's age, skinny, with unruly black hair and round glasses. He looked simultaneously irritated, angry, curious and fearful, but also on his guard.

Turning in his seat, Dumbledore said, "Ah, Severus. I trust that you brought the potion?"

Aang's brain was sent into yet another frenzy. Talking, moving pictures; moving stairs; living statues; magic sticks, and now _potions? _He didn't know what to make of it all. But, like with all of the other strange things, no one in the room reacted strangely, as if this was a normal part of life. Severus himself just nodded, pulling a small glass bottle out of his black robes and handing it carefully to Dumbledore.

"Excellent," Dumbledore said, taking the phial of clear liquid from him, and turning to Aang and Ozai looking apologetic. "Now, I am going to need both of you to take some of this. It won't harm you – it only causes you to tell the truth."

Aang was starting to think that if he _kept _thinking his brain would wear out.

"How does it do that?" he asked eagerly, no longer able to contain his overwhelming curiosity. Dumbledore looked as if he expected this, but wanted to avoid it if he could.

"I am afraid that it is extremely complex, and would take much time to explain. We just call it magic."


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: Wow, sorry if a lot of this is recap-y, can't be helped. It'll move more quickly after this one, tell me what you think!_

_Magic. _The word looped through Aang's mind, but it didn't clarify anything. Even though he'd mentally named their sticks 'magic', that was only because he couldn't explain it. He was spiritual, sure, and he'd seen a lot of wacky things, but all of them could be explained. He'd never, not before or after being frozen, in any part of the world, encountered a substance that forced you to tell the truth. The thing was, though, that these people surely wouldn't _say _that it did that if it didn't – unless, of course, the potion was actually water and a dash of reverse psychology.

He wasn't bothered by the prospect, of course, as he'd intended to tell the truth anyway. What Aang _was _concerned about was Ozai. There was no telling what would come out of his mouth if he was forced to be completely honest, and Aang felt as if he was responsible for Ozai being, well, _Ozai. _It was his fault, really, that he had the ideals that he did. Most of all, though, Aang didn't want to offend anyone.

Dumbledore was still talking. "You will only need a few drops. I assure you that it is painless, although the taste is unpleasant."

Aang was _really _very curious, and as such, he was looking forward to taking this 'potion'. He'd decided that actually taking it was the best way to see if it actually worked. So, when Dumbledore moved closer to tip some of it into his mouth, he thrust it open eagerly, and felt three drops hit his tongue. It really _did _taste unpleasant, but also unlike anything Aang had tasted before. He swallowed it, though there was hardly anything _to _swallow. Mouth twisting into a grimace, he prepared himself for what was to come, and looked over to Ozai.

"Why should I?" Ozai was saying dryly. "You've done nothing but harass me since I arrived here, when I've done absolutely nothing wrong."

Aang snorted loudly and said, "That's the understatement of the century, Ozai." Wincing Aang remembered the potion. He hadn't realised that stating your opinion came under 'telling the truth'. He wouldn't have said that under normal circumstances, because these people clearly had no idea about world affairs, and bringing up what Ozai's family had done in the past was _not _a good way to get them on his side.

"You are trespassers on Hogwarts grounds, a severe breach of security that must be fully investigated. I'm afraid that this is a necessary part of that investigation. Why, all things considered, you have been treated fairly well thus far. Better than out last trespasser, anyway," Dumbledore said, sighing heavily at some old memory.

Looking as if this went against every single moral code that he held dear, Ozai grudgingly opened his mouth.

"Excellent!" Dumbledore said, beaming, as he poured the potion into Ozai's mouth. "I would have hated to have to force it down your throat. This is much more pleasant."

Ozai's face twisted in a similar manner to Aang's, though slightly more violently, as if to show that he was _not _okay with this. Dumbledore sat forward in his chair, all friendliness aside.

"What are your names?" he asked again.

"Phoenix King Ozai," Ozai said proudly.

"Avatar Aang," Aang blurted out without thinking about it. _Damn it, _he thought to himself. He had hoped to keep a low profile here, but between 'Phoenix King' Ozai and himself, it was clearly not going to happen.

"'Avatar' Aang, you say? What is an Avatar, exactly?" Dumbledore asked, looking extremely curious.

"The Avatar is the master of all four elements and the bridge between the spiritual and mortal worlds. Each Avatar keeps balance between the four nations," Aang recited, unable to stop himself.

"Unless I am mistaken, you," he nodded his head towards Ozai, "mentioned that earlier. What four nations are they?"

Ozai expression suggested that that was the most idiotic question he'd ever heard. "What do you mean, which four?" – apparently the truth potion didn't stop him being sassy – "There are only four – the Water Tribes, Earth Kingdom, Air Nomads," – he sneered at Aang – "and the Fire Nation, the greatest of all, the only one whose culture deserves preservation and continuation."

"That's not true!" Aang burst out. He really hated being rude, even if it was usually by accident. "All life is sacred, and should be treasured and protected. I honestly don't know how you ever maintained a country believing that," he added bitterly.

Looking intrigued at the exchange, Dumbledore continued his questioning. "These four nations, can you describe where they are in the world?"

"Oh, sure," Aang said easily, turning from glaring at Ozai to face Dumbledore. "The Water Tribes – there are two main ones, the Northern Water Tribe and the Southern Water Tribe, but I also camp across a tribe in a swamp once, so there's probably more. The Fire Nation is a series of large islands in the west. The Earth Kingdom is a huge continent that stretches from the north to the south-east. There are four Air Temples – Northern, Southern, Western and Eastern, all scattered around the world in different mountaintops," Aang recited, sounding eager to help Dumbledore understand. One thing bothered him though, and, depending on the answer, it could prove his worst fears true. "You knew that, though, didn't you?" he asked hopefully.

Dumbledore, who had listened to all of this with a satisfied yet worried expression, answered, "No, I cannot say that I did. How exactly did the two of you come to be here?"

"Er, well…" If Aang's hands were free, he'd have scratched the back of his head. "That's my fault, really. I was, uh…" he trailed off, looking helplessly at Ozai, who met his gaze with a hardened expression that said 'You're on your own'.

Aang sighed heavily, resigning himself to explaining the situation – although he didn't really have a choice, what with the potion controlling him. "I was taking his bending away, I didn't really have a choice – I mean, I had to end the war, but I couldn't kill him, that'd be wrong. So I took his bending away, like the lionturtle told me, by bending his spirit, but it must have produced so much energy that it ripped a sort of pathway between our two worlds and –" Aang cut himself off, biting his lip, a slight muffled noise issuing from his mouth.

Everyone in the room – Severus, Minerva, the other woman and Harry – had listened to this outburst with disbelief. Out of all the things that they'd said, this seemed to be the most absurd to them. Dumbledore, on the other hand, appeared unaffected, simply nodding with a slight smile on his face.

"You're very clever, aren't you? Yes, I had suspected that something like that had happened. Well, this _is _exciting!" he said, clapping his hands once at the end to express his glee.

Harry stepped forward, speaking for the first time. "Sir, surely you don't mean that you, believe them?" he said uncertainly, his voice wavering slightly.

"Oh, but of course, Harry," he said happily, turning in his seat to face Harry. "How did you figure it out, though?" Dumbledore added curiously, facing Aang again.

"Well, we'd either somehow travelled from one place in our world to another, or we'd passed through to another world altogether," he said, though his tone suggested that he didn't really want to be saying this. "The second one seemed more possible. Then there was – everyone here looks different, not by much, but your facial structures and the way you dress, I've never seen anything like it, and I've travelled the world a few times, both now and before I got frozen. The earth, too. It feels different, has a different vibe, or- or something. I can't really explain it – I don't suppose any of you are earthbenders?"

Dumbledore, frowning slightly at Aang, asked, "Firstly, I should like to know what you meant by 'frozen'. Can you tell me what happened?"

"There – there was a storm," Aang said, his voice chocking up slightly. He was still not proud of what he had done. "I was running away, flying on Appa over the ocean during a bad storm. We fell into the water, Appa and I, and I went into the Avatar state and waterbended us into a ball of ice. We stayed like that for a hundred years," he finished guiltily.

By this point, everyone in the room, excluding Aang, Ozai and Dumbledore, looked like they thought they were dreaming. Aang wondered if they'd actually let him go.

"A hundred years, really? And you were perfectly preserved, no frostbite or anything?" Dumbledore asked gently.

"Yes," Aang said, smiling ruefully. "I might not look it, but I'm one hundred and thirteen years old."

"I see," Dumbledore said gravely. "This 'bending' that you keep mentioning, can you explain it?" he asked, keeping his polite tone. _He makes it sound like we have a choice, _Aang thought bitterly. He didn't know what abilities these people had, but they were strong.

"Bending is the spiritual manipulation of the four elements – water, earth, fire and air. Benders are born, not made; if you don't have a spiritual connection to an element, then you never will. These links can be severed, but not created – though they can be repaired," Aang said, sounding almost like a machine as he did so.

Ozai's head snapped to attention, and he stared at Aang with hope burning in his eyes. "Repaired, you say?"

Aang gasped, realising what he'd done too late – although it wasn't like he could've helped it. "No. No way! What makes you think that you deserve it? I took your firebending away for a reason, Ozai."

"But surely –"

"No," Aang said clearly and firmly. Had it been a few days ago, his eyes would be glowing at this point. "Uh, anyway," Aang said nervously, trying to ignore Ozai once again. "If you don't know what bending is, you're probably not earthbenders, are you?"

"No, I'm afraid that we aren't. Well, I have one more question for now. Do either of you have malicious intent here at Hogwarts? I mean to say, will you harm any members of the student body?"

"Of course not!" Aang said at once, indignantly.

"Not unless I have to," Ozai sneered at him.

Ignoring Ozai's comment, Dumbledore waved his magic stick, vanishing the ropes that held them down. Aang stretched his arms and legs, yawning slightly.

Dumbledore chuckled. "Yes, it has gotten late, hasn't it? Well, we should have _somewhere _for the two of you to sleep, for now. I will meet you again tomorrow. I think that we can learn much from each other."


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: Yeah, so I sort of dropped off the face of the earth, and every time I'd think about the fact that I haven't finished this chapter yet, I get hit with a guilt train full of bricks. Infinitely sorry about the long wait, but… it's longer? (FORGIVEMEFORGIVEMEFORGIVEME) Huge hugs and thankyous to everyone reviewing/following/favouriting this story, you guys are gr9. I'm trying to use words other than 'said', I got sick of typing it and I think it must be annoying to read – tell me what you think, I consider all feedback!_

As Aang and Ozai stood, stretching their limbs and arching their backs, Harry moved to Dumbledore's side wearing an anxious expression.

"What did you need me for, sir?" Harry asked hesitantly, adding bitterly, "Snape wouldn't say."

"_Professor_ Snape, Harry," Dumbledore corrected him, shaking his head with amusement. "Oh, I merely thought that you, of all people, should be here should be here if a Death Eater had broken in. While that was not the case," he continued, looking at Aang and Ozai with what was almost fondness, "I am glad that you got to hear about it, Harry. I have well and truly learnt my lesson on keeping you in the dark. Now," Dumbledore said more loudly, this time directing his words at the Avatar and the Fire Lord, "You two are in need of rest. While I would offer to put you up here, I have unavoidable duties to attend to very early in the morning. Instead, you could go to the Hospital Wing for the night, and Poppy – I mean, Madam Pomfrey - can make sure you're ship shape. How does that sound?" the old man asked, eyes twinkling.

"That sounds excellent. Thank you for your hospitality and kindness," Aang said at once, putting his fists together in a traditional Air Nomad bow while Ozai just glared at the floor, furious about something or another.

"It's no problem, and I am most pleasured to give it," Dumbledore said to lightly to Aang, before adding more seriously, "although, I must ask that you join me for lunch tomorrow, both of you. I don't return until then, and we shall have to see what we can do about getting you back. Any questions that you may have can be answered then, if I can."

"That sounds great, we'll be there," Aang said, throwing a nervous glance at Ozai and wondering if he would wake up with the Firelord's hands around his neck or the room somehow on fire...

"Excellent! I shall have to write a note for Poppy, she'll want to know what's going on," Dumbledore said happily, walking around behind his desk, retrieving some paper from a drawer, and plucking a feather from a cup full of them. Noticing Aang's curious look, he explained, "It's called a quill. It has a metal part on the end, see, and you can write with it is you have ink," before scribbling the note out in his elaborate handwriting.

As he wrote it out, Aang moved closer to the desk, staring intently at the writing on the paper. It was unlike anything he'd ever seen, a completely different language – yet they were able to communicate without any issues.

Noticing Aang's thoughtful gaze, the Headmaster peered up at him concernedly. "Everything alright, my boy?" he inquired curiously.

Slightly startled, Aang replied, "No, I'm fine, it's just… we write differently. I mean, the characters we use, they have no similarities to yours, and yet –"

"And yet we speak it the same," Dumbledore cut him off thoughtfully. "Well, that's an interesting point. We can talk about it tomorrow. For now, you two need rest. Let's be off, then!" he cheerfully suggested. "Oh, and I need you, Professor McGonagall," he inclined his head towards Minerva, "and you too, Harry."

"Erm, yes sir," Harry added nervously. Aang wondered why this teenager seemed so nervous around Dumbledore when the man was obviously fond of him.

"For now, Professor Snape, Professor Sinistra, you are free to leave," the old man continued, his tone indicating that they should forget about everything that they had heard for the time being.

"Brilliant!" the Headmaster continued on, oblivious to Aang's inability to stop thinking of more questions. "Shall we head off, then?"

"Uh, sir," Aang started as politely as he could, "if it's not too much trouble, could I borrow a piece of paper and something to write with?"

"Well, I don't see why not," he answered happily, "though, if you don't mind my asking, what do you need it for?" Dumbledore asked with a knowing smile.

"Oh, I just want to write some questions down," the Avatar answered wearily, rubbing the back of his bald head. "I have _way _too many," he added with a small smile and a hint of laughter in his voice. It was true – if he had a lot of questions to begin with, he had a plethora more now.

"It gets that way, doesn't it? Here you are, then," he continued, handing Aang a roll of paper, one of those 'quills' along with a small glass jar of black ink, "just be sure that you don't get any ink on the sheets – we have a very, ah, _enthusiastic _matron here."

Aang chuckled, nodding happily. Professor Dumbledore gave him an odd feeling; it was almost as if they had met before. It wasn't that surprising, he thought to himself, as he'd already internalized the fact that the man was a cheerful mixture of Roku and Bumi, two of his best mentors.

"Well, time escapes us. Let get a move on, shall we?" Professor Dumbledore suggested, gesturing towards the door with his left hand.

Everyone present nodded, and they exited the darkening office through the large wooden door. Both Aang and Ozai, in their shirtless state, noticed the temperature drop significantly without a roaring fire close by. Noting their shivering, Dumbledore was quick to remark.

"Oh, my apologies for forgetting, but you will, of course, be needing appropriate clothing," Dumbledore drew out his wand and twirled it thoughtfully in front of him, producing two long-sleeved, white cotton t-shirts of different sizes. Handing the smaller to Aang and the larger to Ozai, he hummed, "That should suffice until we reach our destination."

Still shocked by the fact that these people could produce whatever they wanted, whenever they needed it, Aang shrugged on the shirt he'd received in a daze, idly wondering how they had an economy, before bowing to Dumbledore, "Thank you once again. We appreciate your kindness." Ozai, who had remained somewhat docile in regards to Aang's speaking on his behalf, now took objection.

"I can speak for myself, boy. You've yet to take that away from me, at least."

Aang sighed, resigning himself to the fact that the man would be doing this a lot. "How long are you going to hold a grudge for? It was necessary for the safety of the world, so if you're after an apology, I'm afraid you'll be disappointed. If we're going to find a way to get back, we'll need to put aside our differences; we'll need each other's help, and I'll gladly give mine if you can stop making nasty remarks every few minutes."

Aang blinked, slightly shocked by himself. He'd said all of this in a calm and level voice, which was new – in the past, when he'd gotten short bursts of anger like this, he'd started yelling, red in the face. _Maybe I've matured, _he wondered, before almost laughing at himself. Not likely. The truth was, he presently felt more like his age than ever; his body ached, and with saving the world, mastering the Avatar State, figuring out Energybending and crossing over into another world (or possibly another universe; another thing to think about later) – he'd certainly had quite the experience in the last day or two. Presently, Ozai was just staring blankly at him, though this appeared to be out of confusion more than shock.

"But what services could the great Avatar possibly need of me? I am but a regular human, now that I have no Firebending, no throne and no people to command."

"Regular human? There's no such thing. Think about it – how can you have a 'normal' person when everyone is so different from each other?" Aang shook his head. "I don't know what you were taught growing up, but that's what the monks taught me. Anyway, you were the Firelord – you probably know a lot of things that I don't, and that could be the difference between getting back and being stuck here," he elaborated, shrugging nonchalantly.

Past his confusion, Ozai rebutted, "Who said that I wished to return? Why should I, of all people, want to return to that world, the world that is rightfully mine, that I should be ruling, that has escaped my grasp? Maybe I would prefer to spend my time in this new world, and learn their magic, obtain their knowledge. It would be vastly more profitable than the life in prison that awaits me there, wouldn't you agree?"

No sooner had Aang opened his mouth to respond to this than he ran into Harry's back.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going," Aang hurriedly apologised.

"It's fine, really. Hogwarts does that to you, at first," he smiled back, with a gleam of sentiment in his eyes as Aang moved back in line with Ozai.

While they had been talking, the two had fallen behind the three others. Apparently, the Hospital Wing wasn't far from Professor Dumbledore's office, because the aforementioned man was rapping his knuckles smartly on a set of white double doors. A few moments later, a motherly looking woman with greying brown hair, wearing an apron – with lots of pockets, holding many interesting things to _think about later, Aang _- poked her head out of the doors.

"Albus," she said, blinking in surprise and opening the doors a little wider, "What brings you here?" Noticing the two newcomers, she added in a lower voice, "Who are they?"

"Relax, Poppy, all is well," Dumbledore soothed, "I have written a note, but I am obliged to answer your questions, where possible. For the moment, though, these two need your attention."

"My attention, you say? Well, bring them in, but I want to know what's going on," the matron asserted, throwing the doors wide open as she turned and marched into the sickroom.

"No one's in at the moment, it's been a bit of a quiet year. Just lay down on one of the beds," she instructed as she started pulling a trolley full of curious things across the tiled floor of the airy room – it had many arched windows, one between each bed on the far side of the room. Aang and Ozai took two beds on either side of a window, directly opposite the door.

As Aang lay down, he realised just how exhausted he was – he felt as if he could fall asleep in an instant, if he could. Along with that, he was, for the first time, aware of his injuries. His feet, back and shoulders were aching, especially the place where Azula had shot him, as it's been hit hard earlier when he was thrown against the rock. Burns ran along his arms, face and torso, and he felt dehydrated. He was glad, then, when the nurse bustled over and began her assessment of him. After several minutes of prodding, examining, tutting and wand waving over the both of them, Madam Pomfrey sighed.

"Well, you've certainly been through the mill. You got shallow burns all over, some nasty bruising and a sprained wrist. You," she continued, turning from Aang to Ozai, "Are about the same, but all of your joints are intact." The Matron then pulled a tub of yellowish gel out of her trolley, and began applying it to their burns. When she was done, she drew her wand out of apron, and pointed it at Ozai. At his flinching away from her, she reassured him, "It's alright, dear, I'm just going to heal your bruises."

"You can heal with that thing?" he disdainfully asked, eyeing the object sceptically.

"Yes," she replied patiently, though she seemed a bit confused, "And quite well too. Hold still, now."

With that she murmured some strange sounding words that Aang had never heard before, moving her wand over Ozai's bruises at the same time. After about a minute, she was done and any sign of a bruise had completely faded.

"That's amazing," Aang remarked softly, while Ozai was poking the spots where his bruises used to be in astonishment.

"Quite," Madam Pomfrey agreed with a hint of amusement, "Here, dear, I need to do the same for you."

"Of course," Aang said quickly, trying to adjust once more to all the strange things that they did here. She uttered the same words as before, moving her wand in a circular pattern over his skin. Feeling only a small tingling sensation, Aang watched deep, purple blotches fade away completely.

"I also need to fix your wrist – there should only be a moment of discomfort," she warned, before lifting his right arm gently, pointing her wand at it and saying another strange phrase sharply. Aang wondered why she needed to say words for the magic to work, when the Headmaster just moved his wand around. In any case, the words were not any that he knew, and he's little time to entertain that train of thought before there was a sudden sharp pain in his wrist. As soon as it had come, it was gone again, and the joint felt ten times better.

"That's great!" Aang exclaimed, flexing his wrist about and wondering for the umpteenth time _how _all of this worked.

Smiling slightly, Madam Pomfrey said, "I'll give you a dreamless sleep potion, so that you can rest properly for the night. Even though you're healed," she threatened, "you need to take it easy for a day or two. I can't imagine what you've been up to to get in such a state, but I don't want you doing it again."

Looking amused at the matron's well-meant threats, Professor Dumbledore stood from the chair that he had perched himself on between Harry and Minerva. "Can it wait a moment, Poppy? I need to speak to them before they sleep."

"Of course, Headmaster, but try not to take too long, they need rest" she complied, rolling her trolley out from between their beds.

Nodding, Dumbledore looked to them, "Like I said before, I have business tomorrow that orequires my attention elsewhere until midday. So, in the morning, you'll naturally need someone to show you around a little. That's where you, Harry, are needed," he said, tuning around to speak to a stunned, black-haired teenager.

"Er, you want _me_ to show them around, sir?" he asked, disbelieving.

"Yes, Harry. I have a feeling that you know more of the castle than most," he confided, eyes twinkling as Harry tried to stifle his chuckle. "When you rise in the morning, could you collect them and take them down to the Great Hall with you?"

"Of course, sir. But… everyone will be asking questions. What do I tell them?" Harry complied, concern showing in his voice.

"Ah. Yes. There is that," Dumbledore admitted, pulling up short. "It had slipped my mind just how fast things get around in the student body, so I don't suppose that we can tell them nothing. Hmm, let's just say that they're foreigners here on official business at my request. Leave it at that, if you will, Harry."

"Yes sir," Harry affirmed.

"Excellent! Then, you two can expect Harry in the morning. I do not want you to leave this wing until he comes to get you, okay?" They nodded, Aang with understanding, Ozai with bitterness. "Now that that is settled, you may give them the potion, Poppy, and I will answer any of your questions."

Madam Pomfrey returned from where she had stationed herself next to her trolley with two goblets full of the sleeping potion. Aang supposed that it must work, even though the idea of _actual magical potions _was still a hard on for him. The truth potion had been successful, so why wouldn't this one be? His thoughts were proven correct, as after drinking only one mouthful of the potion, his eyes began to droop, and his head hit the soft, white pillow in the same instant that he fell asleep.


End file.
